Pregnancy Loss Awareness - Our Story

A year ago today, I shared on Facebook that we had experienced two pregnancy losses, and were struggling with infertility. At that time, we were mourning the recent loss of our 2^nd baby, and I was really having a hard time. Through sharing our losses and our struggle, I have found incredible strength.

Pregnancy loss is the hardest thing I have ever had to experience.

The first day I saw two pink lines on a test (April 17^th, 2015), I became a mother. At that moment, I pictured our future with that baby. I pictured telling all of our family and friends, I pictured my belly growing. I pictured the first time we would get to hold that baby. I wondered what we should name him or her. I wondered whether their hair would be brown or red and their eyes blue or green. Once we learned the due date, I planned the next 8 months and I thought about how pregnant I would be at each of the weddings and family events we had coming up. I wondered what kind of personality our baby would have, and thought about how much that baby would be loved. I loved him or her so much already, from the moment those lines turned pink.

All of those hopes and dreams came crashing down two weeks later as I was rushed into emergency surgery to remove my fallopian tube that the baby was stuck in. I remember not being able to breathe when the ER doctor told me I had an ectopic pregnancy that had ruptured and I was bleeding internally. My heart hurt so much in that moment, knowing the baby I loved so much would never get to be here on earth with us. It hurt so much that I thought I was having a heart attack (as did the doctors). That day took me a long time to recover from. I don’t know that you truly ever recover from a pregnancy loss, but it does get easier with time (and therapy). I hoped and prayed we would never go through that situation again. I mean, one pregnancy loss is enough to take you down.

And then, 15 months later, we were pregnant again. Even with our previous experience being what it was, I still hoped and believed that things would work out. Was I scared? Of course I was. But I thought this one was our precious miracle. I was very cautiously optimistic. We made it through so many milestones with that baby, had shared the news with most, and were picking out cribs and discussing names. And then on September 7^th, 2016, at 9 ½ weeks, we heard the words that no parent should ever have to hear “There is no more heartbeat”. Talk about soul-crushing. How could this happen again? We literally had just told our family. Now we were not only broken-hearted ourselves, but we had to break the hearts of so many we loved by telling them our devastating news. I didn’t think I’d make it. I sat and cried and said “I can’t do this. I can’t do it again. I can’t deal with another loss.”  

4 months later, we were pregnant again. And this time I was totally cynical. Pregnancy loss changes you, and each time we experienced one it changed me more. I told my mom “I’m pregnant, but don’t get excited. I don’t think it’s going to work.” How terrible is that? At that point we knew way too much about what my numbers should be, how dark the line should be, and that I was a couple days late to be receiving a positive test. So I pretended it wasn’t even true. I hoped, and at times I planned. And of course I loved the baby that I was carrying and wanted it more than anything. But I also knew I needed to set my expectations so I wasn’t heartbroken again. As if I could “lessen” the pain and disappointment by acting like I wasn’t excited about the pregnancy. Two weeks later, January 24^th, 2017, our doctor called with his sad voice on (I know that voice well by now). The pregnancy wasn’t viable, and we were losing our 3^rd baby.

That week I started typing, and I began to share all of the details of our story. Every ugly detail, and all of the heartbreak. It was like the words just poured out of me. As I posted my first blog post, I was so nervous. I asked Reid to review my first post and asked him several times “are you sure? Should we share this? Are you really okay with this?” His response was “will it help you? If so, then yes.” And I hit post.  

Pregnancy Loss is terrible. It is completely heartbreaking. It is gut-wrenching. It can make even the most optimistic person lose all hope. It makes you feel so alone. And it can feel like your entire world is crashing down around you. It changes you as a person. I don’t even think I’m describing it completely. If you’ve never been through it, I don’t know that there’s any way to help you understand – and honestly I don’t know that I want to. I hope you never have to go through it. If you have dealt with a pregnancy loss, I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss. My heart hurts for you.

Sharing our pregnancy losses was probably the single best thing we have done throughout this process. The number of people that have reached out and shared their story, told us that they’re praying for us, sent cards, and have simply shown that they are behind us, is unreal. I feel so humbled by it every day. It’s like we have an army of people fighting this battle with us.  

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. And today is the day we remember those babies and their parents who grieve them. From 7-8 p.m. tonight, grieving parents across the world will be lighting candles to remember their babies. We will be lighting 3 for our sweet angel babies.   

If you know someone who has dealt with a pregnancy loss, please let them know you’re thinking of them. People who have experienced the loss of a child – baby or not – are the strongest people I know, because they still get up and get out of bed every day.

"There is a unique pain that comes from preparing a place in your heart for a child that never comes." - David Platt